


Middle Names and Heart-to-Hearts

by Custardo



Series: Learning to Know Each Other [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunken Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Pre-Slash, Sort Of, Strangers to Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Custardo/pseuds/Custardo
Summary: Arcade and Boone are left alone to get along while the Courier is spending the night with Red Lucy.
Relationships: Craig Boone/Arcade Gannon
Series: Learning to Know Each Other [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804201
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Middle Names and Heart-to-Hearts

"Israel"

Boone snorted, taking the final swig of his beer, didn't grimace as much as Arcade had when he drank. Seemed as though the Courier had went for quantity rather than quality this time. The beer probably wasn't that popular 200 years ago either.

"What's that meant to mean?" Punctuating the question with the sound of his empty bottle dropping to the floor, echoing in the hollow room, and picked up another from their pack.

"What's Israel?"

The sniper paused, before replying. "Yeah." Boone peeled at the label of his new bottle, the feeling of knowing he wasn't the most intelligent person rearing its head again. Didn't have an easy or lucky childhood, mostly raised himself and his siblings after his parents died, no time for fancy books or magazines. Then when the NCR got him, all he really cared about was shooting.

Arcade didn't laugh, instead speaking in a surprisingly soft tone. "Well, it's a place. Considered one of the most sacred sights in Jerusalem, a biblical holy land in the eyes of Christians and Jews... that's what the history texts say anyway, who knows what state it's in now."

Fitting that a guy with such a holier-than-thou attitude would have a middle-name like that, made his eyes drift away from the bottle to look at the doctor with this new information. Suited him in a nice way actually.

The doc had insisted that they sit in one of the more secluded areas of The Thorn, near the ladder they had entered through hours earlier, said he didn't want to be near the "unnecessary abuse of animals or people". Boone found it easier to shrug and follow than really take the time to discuss it, didn't have much to say on either side of the issue. Also helped that he wasn't as pissy as Arcade, learning his lesson after telling him once that he acted more like a woman than a man had gotten him a lecture on misogyny and something about stereotypes. He stopped listening pretty quickly, picked that skill up fast after making friends with Manny, after all.

"So what's yours?" The words broke his train of thought, the Follower now leaning over slightly, legs crossed with his head perched on his hands, acting like a school girl at a sleepover. Couldn't tell him that though, would get him another lecture.

"Don't have one."

"What? You don't have a middle name? Big mysterious man like you? Or are you hiding it with all of the other secrets rattling around under that beret of yours?"

"No." Man, he didn't know the half of it. Hurt thinking about it. Never stopped thinking about it.

Arcade seemed to sense that he had miss-stepped in the rather large minefield that was Craig Boone's psyche and grew silent, patiently waiting for the sniper to recover from whatever had been triggered this time.

Boone opened his eyes after a while when he realized he didn't hear the doctor, not because he was blocking it out but because he wasn't actually speaking - didn't even realize he'd closed them in the first place, actually. Seeing his friend (Christ, is that what they were now?) brought him out of the fog a bit. Opening the beer with his wedding ring and taking mouthful of the drink kept his hands busy and his mind foggy, might as well since he was being studied.

Could hide his face whilst the doctor was looking him with the same expression usually reserved for one of his flower experiments.

-

_"They're not flowers, Craig! A flower is a part of the plant, but still a separate living thing, it has petals, a stamen..."_

_Boone just stood in the doorway of their shared room, gifted to them by their Courier friend who had given himself the master bedroom. Hated that guy sometimes._

_"Well put it away. Don't want to lose winks because of your shit." Didn't like this guy using his first name either, hated the Courier even more for telling him it._

_The doctor just sighed in frustration, but grew a tight-lipped smile when the clinking of the beakers earned him a glare from the sniper. "Just putting my shit away!" The curse accompanied by the slam of a cupboard was just the proof he needed of this new guy's love for dramatics. Okay, he really hated that Courier._

-

But things were different now than back then, didn't hate the Courier less, but the doctor wasn't the worst to be around. Rambled a lot, but knew when to shut up eventually, more than most people, anyway. He was thankful for that.

Arcade spoke breaking the new tension in the air. "How do you think they're getting on? I would hope there is still room for romance these days, but they probably skipped the candle-lit dinner and went straight to bed." Ending his sentence with a sigh and drink of beer, pulling a face after like a pussy. Knew when to change the subject too, distract him, even if it was with stupid shit. Don't know how the Courier could sleep with just anybody who offered, never-mind Red Lucy.

"Going at it like brahmin in heat I bet." His bluntness earned him a scoff but a smile too, showing Arcade's teeth, white somehow despite everything.

"You don't say a lot but you get your point across, hm?" Now it was Boone's turn to scoff, quieter though, wasn't the first time Arcade had said that to him. It became almost an inside joke between them, he hoped anyway, hoped the doctor wasn't laughing at him. Reminded him of Manny in a weird way.

Arcade uncrossed his legs, his thin-soled boot nudging Boone's as he stretched. "Well you may be able to sit on hard flooring for long periods of time but these bones can't." Stretching his arms this time, he let out a yawn and cracked his neck. "Let's head on back home shall we, since he's spending the night."

_Home_. Even Novac didn't feel like home most of the time, with everyone hating Carla even at the start. Didn't want to think about that place anymore, not when he had the promise of more drink to help him fall asleep in a pre-war bed. Would think about Carla though.

Boone clumsily stood, drank more than he thought, and went to pick up their empty bottles, thought Arcade might bitch again if he left them, but the doctor surprised him.

"Ugh, just leave it, these people could do with a touch of community service." The doctor's tone just shy of mischievous, with his hand on the ladder and head resting against it, signalling he was eager to leave. Now that caused a rare smile from Boone, barely noticeable, just a twitch of his lips for a second. But Arcade saw it, perceptive despite his complaint of never finding the right pair of glasses. Must suck not being able to see too well, made the sniper wonder how he hadn't accidentally fallen into a ditch and died yet. Hm, felt funny thinking that.

Boone pushed past Arcade, going up the ladder first, ignoring the surprised sound his friend made. Don't know why he felt like being an asshole, felt like he didn't deserve to smile sometimes after what he'd done. Made him feel pretty bad after hurting the doctor but they both deserved it. Boone for his past and Arcade for trying to get in close. The doctor mumbled some brahmin-shit behind his back but he blocked it out, head was fuzzy enough that he had to really focus to climb the ladder, and almost lost his footing if it wasn't for a hand at his calf.

"Don't fall. I'm far better as a researcher rather than a doctor, and if that wasn't enough I've been told my bedside manner needs some improvement too."

Boone just grunted in response, the hand still tight on his leg so he kicked it off. Wouldn't have hurt or made any other guy complain but Arcade was a pussy, of course the doc had to say something. "You're welcome, I suppose." He even sounded like Carla when she was pissed at him, same snarky tone just a different voice.

-

Boone eventually made it out, Arcade not far behind him crawled out the manhole pretty gracefully, considering the guy was all limbs. The walk back was filled with silence, two heads filled with their own respective thoughts and Boone swiping a few glances at Arcade, when he thought the doctor wasn't looking. He looked sad. Huh.

When his expression didn't let up, even after they had passed the Kings that gave them both a wave, Boone spoke. Might as well apologize so he didn't have to deal with Arcade in a bad mood - and trying to avoid each other while locked in the same apartment did get pretty difficult.

"Sorry."

Arcade looked like he was about to say something. Then stopped. Then started again. "Why do you do that? Just as I think I understand you, you go and do things like that, push me away." Boone's gaze caught the small gesture of him rubbing at his wrist. God damn it. "I do have feelings you know."

A sigh escaped Boone as he shifted his sunglasses up as he pinched his nose bridge, he didn't like where this was going, regretted saying sorry... No, he regretted saying or doing anything in the first place, wouldn't have hurt him then. Wouldn't have hurt Carla that way either.

The same hand from earlier had placed itself on his shoulder, they'd stopped walking and were now stood in the middle of Freeside, under a flickering street lamp. The King's music playing in the distance, another droning love song by a long dead Old World singer. "You know..." Arcade frowned, looking to the side, as if trying to find the right words in one of the empty tin cans rolling by, muttering something very similar to 'this isn't where I thought we would be having this conversation but here we go'. "I consider you a friend, Craig." Boone closed his eyes, couldn't look at that face anymore, so open with emotions, not afraid to show when he was upset, pissed off or even happy.

"Stop." Especially didn't want to see that face show the hurt he knew he caused right now.

_A bark echoed in the distance, probably that dog. Another thing the Courier promised to fix._

The doctor sighed and some of the road's stones crumbled audibly. Was probably wiggling his feet in those shoes a size too small for him. "Okay, I will this once but you can't keep shutting everyone out, at least give me something to work with, I'm many things but a mind reader isn't one of them." Unknowingly echoing some of Carla's final words the night she went missing. They'd had a pretty bad argument. Then the hand left him, made his shoulder feel cold even in the sweltering night air.

He lied, his bedside manner wasn't too bad. Fuck, he was grateful for how patient Arcade Gannon really was, God knows Boone wasn't. Even all those hours sat inside the stupid dinosaur's mouth, guarding a community that he couldn't even look in the eye anymore couldn't turn him into a patient man. The only thing he could wait for these days were Legionnaires and Death. And those meant the same thing to him.

An all-too familiar tension was in the air again, Boone was used to it. Even felt comfort as it wrapped around him sometimes. But it was wrapped around both of them now, didn't feel right infecting the good-natured doctor like that, for the second time that night too. He didn't really know what to do now. After a few moments the sniper's eyes slowly crept open, didn't know what he expected to see, maybe a small part of him was scared that the doctor had left, gotten sick of his shit for a change. But there he was, still under the lamp and worrying at one of the frayed edges of his lab coat, expression a million miles away. Maybe on one of those planets they saw in the REPCONN Headquarters the Courier dragged them to.

-

_"Look! I'm an angel!" A snowfall of flakes of paint fell away as the Courier's boots wiggled, balancing himself on a brittle banister to keep himself from falling._

_Stupid bastard had shoved his head through one of the rings hanging from the ceiling, the 'halo' falling more around his eyes than floating above his head. Boone didn't know much about angels but he knew the Courier didn't get that label no matter how hard he tried. Nobody did in the Mojave._

_"If he hangs himself, I promise to laugh after we help him." The doc had whispered into the coil of his ear, his breath making Boone's neck hairs prickle and a static feeling worm its way down his spine._

_"God damn it! Don't sneak up on me like that!"_

_"Seesh sorry, didn't know we were jumpy today. Something on your mind?"_

_"Piss off."_

_"I get that a lot."_

-

Felt like he owed him something when he reflected on the memory.

"I never even told my wife." His voice sounded far away, like it was on one of those planets too. Like it wasn't even him saying it. Must be the drink making him act like this.

Arcade's head snapped up, looking owl-eyed over the top of his glasses that had slipped down his face. He needed to tighten the screws but Boone would bet he'd never even held a screwdriver in his life.

"Oh." Arcade's eyes flashed to Boone's ring for a split second. He must have noticed it before, he wasn't an idiot, helped that he was a nosy fucker too, always gossiping with that hooded girl the rare times she was at the 38.

"Yeah."

They remained staring at one another, words unsaid hanging between them. The flickering light was slowing now, a gentle thrum of a heartbeat in a way, felt like it was more alive than Boone. He knew he was a dead man walking and didn't need to drag anyone else down with him, more than he had already anyway. But it seemed like this bastard was a stubborn one, saved his life when he thought, no, knew, he didn't deserve it. Stood by him more than the Courier sometimes too. Giving Boone his last stimpak even when he he could let his wound heal on its own, letting the sniper have a few more minutes of sleep when it was Arcade's turn at watch or even in moments like right now. Knew when to push and went to back off. Reminded him too much of spotting with Manny with that.

Sighing, the sniper spoke once more, his lips spilling the words out before he even thought about them. "The guilt. It grinds you down into dust, until there's nothing of you left." A pause. "Don't like talking about it." His tongue was heavy and thick in his mouth after the outburst. Well, it was an outburst for him anyway, practically a speech.

"Seems like nobody likes talking about their past around here, hm?" Knew the doctor wanted him to elaborate but his lips remained stiff. "Is that all I'm getting tonight? Oh for goodness sake, come on, we can go raid our fearless leader's personal liquor supply to celebrate this new milestone in our relationship, how does that sound?" Arcade smiled guardedly, the sniper knew he was trying to get him to loosen up further and was probably going to interrogate him once the drinking had grown deeper into the early hours of the morning. Boone's eye caught the aborted movement of the doctor's hand, as if it were going to reach out once more.

Pursing his lips, the sniper pushed off the rail, continuing their walk down the road as if nothing had happened, Arcade having to jog to catch up with him. The silence was more comfortable this time, felt... nice, like the air had been cleared a bit. Still felt like he was walking underwater, though. Still felt guilty too, but for a different reason he couldn't quite name. Was going to be an interesting night.

-

The ride up the elevator and avoiding eye contact in its mirrored walls was a song and dance they both knew too well, made Boone feel childish but he couldn't help but feel weird in a little box flying up in the sky - didn't know what to do with his hands or look at the best of times. His rifle was on his back so he took to fiddling with its strap to preoccupy himself. Knew that Arcade wasn't used to it either, and that it always made him feel a bit sick after, the drink already in the doc not helping ease the pained expression off his face.

"It's almost over." Wasn't a tease, not really. Just trying to make the doc feel better.

"Oh shut up." There was that grin and flash of teeth again. It seemed as though they broke the unspoken rule at the same time, eyes catching each other in a scratched panel of the elevator. Even Boone's sunglasses couldn't fight against the harsh fluorescent lighting washing over the pair. Made them both look older than they already were. Hell, that wasn't just the lights fault, they both knew life had a lot to answer for.

Got the urge that he had to say something too, stop Arcade staring again. "We forgot the pack."

And just like that, the spell was gone. Arcade growing a smile, but a fake one. Could tell by his eyes, something still wasn't right. Don't know why the doctor would put on airs for someone like the soldier, wasn't really worth the time or effort.

"Ah, yes of course, how silly of us." Arcade took off his glasses and wiped them on his lab coat, not really cleaning them just distracting himself. An excuse to look anywhere but the vague direction of the sniper. "The Courier will pick it up on his way out."

Boone grunted at that. "If he actually pays attention." Before Arcade could react, the elevator chimed. He decided to break routine by waiting, looking expectantly at the doctor, giving him the chance to step out first.

The doc looked startled for a second, before swiftly recovering and clumsily placing his glasses back on his face. "How gracious of you, we will make a real gentleman out of you yet." Voice trailing off as he sauntered into the master bedroom, in search of promised alcohol. "Oh, hello ED-E, no don't beep like that..."

Boone just headed straight to their room, dropping his rifle on the couch that served more as a weapons bench than a place to sit. The barrel of the gun hitting one of those teddy bears the Courier collected and left everywhere. Ugly things. Had black orbs for eyes that made it look like it was staring, pressured him into swiping off his sunglasses and threw them at the bear too. Everything felt like it was staring today, maybe it was just in his head, some days were like that.

_A click and a curse sounded from the other room._

A shrill squeak sounded from the bed springs as he mostly fell, rather than sat, on the edge of his designated mattress, closest to his gun, and began unlacing his boots. Felt the relief with each tug on the laces, didn't matter how much they walked, his feet never stopped complaining about it. Noticed his mind starting to drifting again too, brain running away with thoughts about how Arcade must feel having to walk in shoes that weren't even his size. Poor tall bastard.

Another click followed by an alarmed beep. Might as well go save the doc from the robot, or the robot from the doc, didn't know which yet... after he finished resting his feet. Fatigue creeped up on him faster and faster these days, same thing with the intrusive thoughts he'd been rolling around in his mind while putting one foot in front of the other by the Courier's request.

"Craig!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Not much of a rest.

-

Socked feet padded along the carpet, the soft floor making him feel even more tired. But hearing the beeper growing louder as he got closer made him go a bit faster, wasn't going to deny that yeah, it was a bit worrisome.

Upon reaching the door way, he came to the sight of the robot bobbing up in down in a manner that could be described as 'angry' if you asked the Courier or Ronnie? He couldn't remember her name. But to Boone it just looked stupid, at least its mini cannon wasn't out. To its right Arcade was stood looking guilty as sin, despite the Follower's cross on his arm trying to prove otherwise. His arms surprisingly carrying a few full heavy bottles of wine, mustn't be as weak as he seemed.

"He's upset at me because he thinks I'm stealing, but the Courier gave us permission right, friend?" Arcade explained.

"What-" Rather loud clinking of the wine bottles interrupted his sentence as they fell into the sniper's arms, and a quick whisper in his ear of a _Go with it_ went just as quick as it came.

"Well these aren't going to drink themselves and your master would be very upset if he discovered that you prevented his wishes from being carried out, wouldn't he dear ED-E?" The doc finishing by patting the eyebot on it's 'head', only making the bobbing grow deeper and a sad sound echo from its speaker.

He then ushered the sniper, and accompanying wine, out of the door, that damned hand on his wrist, right where the doctor had checked his pulse many times before. Arcade gave the ball of bolts a few last words before leaving."Goodnight ED-E!" Shutting the door as quickly as a guilty man attempting to seem innocent could.

"Do you think it fell for it?"

_A dull thud echoed from the door._

"No."

"Me neither, good thing they never got to the opening-door stage with those things." Boone cocked a brow at the doctor's confident statement. "Well, from what I heard anyway, now go." Arcade commanded, decorating his statement with the flamboyant wave of his hands in the vague direction of their bedroom.

-

"-and well I must admit I've had more than my fair share of romantic trysts, some more fleeting than others - oh don't look at me like that I'm not like our Courier friend. It happens when you are running from past association with a fascist paramilitary organization... I'm joking, of course."

Most of that sentence went in one of the sniper's ear and out the other, was way too fucking drunk to understand the doctor now. Basically just said he slept with a lot of people, well men, but who cares. "Think it's time to hit the sack." The words quickly falling into a mumble as he slid further down the makeshift pillow wall, causing his beret to tumble off the bed and into the carpet abyss.

"You're already on your bed, Craig."

"So are you, Gannon."

"Touché," _The fuck did that mean?_ "But I'm not letting you get away that easily, its your turn to spill-the-beans so to speak." The doc was sat the exact same way he was at The Thorn, legs-crossed, head-in-hands school girl pose. But without the tatty lab coat this time, or his button-up. Both instead were down to just their sleep shirts and boxers. Boone groaned internally at the realisation that he had walked right into Arcade's trap; this really was a sleepover with the gossip of old stories and pasts, just like he wanted.

"Goin' to bed." Even shut his eyes too for dramatic effect. Only hearing Arcade rustle around the covers, and the rattle of empty bottles hitting each other... felt something too.

"Stop starin'."

"You can't even see me."

"Don't have to."

"Is that your special sniper sixth sense?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what do your sniper senses tell you I'm doing right now?"

"Somethin' retarded."

"Craig! You can't say that word, I know you weren't really taught manners in the NCR but that's considered a very outdated term... " _pissy bastard_ "but noo I'm not doing anything _stupid_ , if that's what you mean. I think I look rather dashing."

His body complained loudly at him when he opened his eyes, they'd drank a lot... Boone had anyway. He saw the doc admiring his reflection in the mirror on the wardrobe door he'd left open earlier, with his red beret sloppily placed on his head, wasn't even pushed down properly, just sitting on top of white-blond curls. Wouldn't look too bad either if he got a trim and learned how to wear it right.

Probably would have provoked a physical reaction in the sniper to swipe it off his head, or punch him, if he was sober, but he was too drunk and too tired to really care. Made him smile instead, full teeth on show, and didn't even bother to hide it. Didn't have any defenses tonight, no sunglasses, no 'hat', or even his sobriety.

"I was right."

When the doc looked back, he wasn't so drunk he didn't register the split second of shock on the guy's face, was self aware enough to know he didn't smile much. A rare sight for the doctor and an even rarer sight for himself when he looked in the mirror.

"I'm marking that reaction as a great success in my personal diary tonight, didn't know you had a smile like that Mr. Boone." The doc stumbled over his words a bit, but he got the general meaning, chose to take it as a compliment. Didn't get many these days.

"Think it's mornin' by now."

"I also don't have a diary, so that's two whole lies. You better tell me a truthful story to make up for it."

"Can't just let shit go can you?"

"No, I can't actually, surprising that nobody has tracked me down and put a bullet between my eyes for it yet." The blunt phrasing and imagery caused a deep dark ache in the sniper's chest. Got a feeling like he was about to hurl. "How about that dark handsome fellow from Novac, oh what was his name again? I never went to Novac often, one can get tired of unwanted dinosaur souvenirs quite quickly, but the Courier told me you were a guard there correct?"

Huh, that wasn't what he was expecting. Not good, but still not the worst way the conversation could have went. His throat still felt as dry as the sand they walked, though - despite all the wine, or because of, couldn't tell.

"How do you know him?" Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Like I said, fleeting relationships-"

"What." He wanted to spit the word, really spit it like the venom it tasted of but instead it just tumbled from his mouth. Lips barely parting.

"Good Lord, Craig, I didn't sleep with him if that's what you're sweating for, he stopped me at the gate one night, when I was travelling later than usual. It wasn't the most romantic interaction of my years but it was flirting and that was it." The doc got that far away look in his eyes again, back on those planets. "I only saw him in the dinosaur's mouth the rest of the time I passed, after that. Now thanks to our mutual friend I know that's because you took the night shifts, or was he lying to me again?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Didn't feel like elaborating.

"Is he still there?"

"Why you so interested?"

"Why are you so defensive? No wait, don't tell me. He flirted with you too, right? A real life Romeo and Juliet, divided by time schedules rather than class. Poetic really." Arcade flopped on his side for dramatic effect, the bed springs squeaking in protest, and propped his head up (still wearing his fucking beret) with his hand. Had a sparkle in his eye, knew he found something.

"He was my best friend."

"Past tense, hm. Is that why you left?"

"Had something to do with it."

"If you won't punch me in the face, may I ask why?" Boone wasn't sure if he was asking specifically about Manny or more about him leaving Novac in general now, didn't really matter much since all the reasons blended into one. He decided to sit up for this, knew it could get messy and complicated from here. Found that he couldn't tell the doctor as easy as he could with the Courier, though.

The idiot in the vault suit and trader hat was just that, feeling more like a caregiver to him than anything else. But the doc was different, reminded him of the Manny he knew back in Camp McCarran and the Carla he'd loved. Funny how despite all that familiarity and the months they'd traveled together he still felt like he was talking to a stranger sometimes. Maybe he just didn't want to lose the doctor too.

"I won't punch you." Christ, he even sounded as miserable and self-pitying as he felt.

The doctor was intelligent enough to sense that they had transferred from boy-talk gossip to something very personal and deep to the sniper. Wound still obviously raw and bleeding. And he got that look in his eyes again, same studying-your-every movement type of look, lids narrowing behind those ancient glasses, causing little lines on his forehead. Could almost see all the little gears turning as Gannon's eyes flickered to his ring, head sans-beret, then to his own gaze. He kept that face for a few seconds, before being unable to hold his tongue. Maintaining the eye contact. "I felt useless at the Old Mormon Fort, so useless in fact I found myself preferring to traipse the desert with a brain damaged courier and an ex-military man. Not that I'm complaining, I feel like we do actually make a difference out there." He licked his lips. "When the Courier isn't being the Courier anyway."

A mix of emotions overcame him at that, Gannon being Gannon, self-pitying but charming at the same time. Boone went to reach for one of the bottles that still held a few mouthfuls of alcohol, but Arcade didn't even have to move a muscle to halt his movements. Just raising his eyebrows and glasses slipping down his nose, like a scolding librarian.

So, he sighed, falling back against the headboard with a thud and let what intoxication he was already under guide his speech. "Carla. Her name was Carla and she was kidnapped by Legion. Told Manny and the fucker had the aud-" Christ, barely a few words in and he couldn't remember how it finished. "had a look on his face like he was happy to hear it." If his face wasn't already red from the wine, it would be now. Fucking embarrassing.

But the doctor didn't laugh, or even look like he wanted to. Instead, sitting up and resting his hand on Boone's which was limp on the bed sheet, squeezing it for a beat. Pushing his glasses up with his free hand.

"The world we live in is rather cruel isn't it." A simple statement that wasn't really that deep and was pretty oversimplified really, but it was the truth and hearing it come from a man who he had grown so close to in battle, and regular companionship, caused the split in his chest to ache in a new way.

"Me too." Said companion pulled a confused expression for a second before he continued. "I was at Bitter Springs. Men, women and kids too." Now that the doctor was closer, he couldn't be a coward and close his eyes again, couldn't bring himself to take away the opportunity of looking at that face again either. Might be the last time he sees it this personal, before his comrade-in-arms decides he's just a head filled with bad static and memories and decides to revert back to being slightly-awkward yet regular roommates.

"Lot's of people got killed. But that's war." Only justification he could think of. Pathetic.

The hand squeezed again though, a second longer this time. Accompanied by Arcade's unwavering gaze, seeming even more open, and closer too. He'd come this far, might as well finish and get it over with while the doctor was quiet. "Life has a way of punishing you for the mistakes you make. Big enough mistake? Punishment can take a while. Mine's not over... don't want to drag you down to Hell with me."

Arcade moved even closer, and before Boone could ask just what the fuck he was doing, his head was in the doctor's shoulder and crook of his neck. Felt wet too, hadn't even realised he'd been crying. Hands moved around his own torso and on the back of his skull, would have been threaded through hair if he wasn't military regulation shaved, instead just resting on the little cactus prickled skin.

He shuddered before continuing. "Left the NCR when my tour was up. Had enough of war. Decided I was gonna start over." A sad rusted laugh broke through him, sounding more like a cough. "Look how that went." It was muffled from the doctor's collar but clear enough for just them.

"War has too many victims." Another surprisingly simple statement from the most intelligent out of the two of them, but another truth. And another devastating fact that he couldn't really get away from. Maybe it's good that him and Carla didn't welcome a child into this world, God knows what kind of things they would have suffered through already.

Arcade pushed Boone away, but brought him back by cradling his jaw with both hands this time. He didn't even have the energy to feel anything from it, didn't even feel like a girl or a faggot or a pussy or whatever word his own father would hurl at him sometimes.

"A handsome face like that doesn't deserve or suit all the pain and guilt it's carrying." His thumb brushed a stray tear rolling down his cheek, as he saw the doctor's eyes fall to his ring again and the hands fell away back to his own lap.

"Do you think it would help to go back there?"

"Novac?"

"Bitter Springs."

"No. Maybe. Don't know." Spitting out answers, hoping one of them would be good enough. He sighed, his lids were drooping heavier and heavier, the rusted emotional flood gates being opened had tired him out more than any gunfight could. Alcohol not helping either.

"Maybe it is time to 'hit the sack' now" Boone's words sounding foreign in the doctor's mouth, like he was practicing a different language. "or 'bed time' as the Courier says." That earned a tired snort from the sniper, maybe he wasn't the most idiotic out of the trio after all. More mature anyway and that counted for something.

Boone had slid back down to his previous position, head finally back on soft pillows and eyes attempting to drift closed as he heard Arcade shuffle from the bed and turn the lights off. Still wearing his beret.

"Come here."

"Um, pardon?" Okay, the doc was an idiot too.

"My beret."

"Oh." His eyes had adjusted enough in the window-less apartment enough to see the doctor still stood in place, clearly not knowing where to make his next step. It was usually Boone who turned the last of the lights out.

"Just walk forward, Christ." Boone's voice was on the edge of aggressive now, really, how was this guy not dead yet? The doctor pulled a childish pout and began slow and unsure steps towards the sniper.

"We don't all perpetually wear sunglasses, making our eyes adjusted to the dark, as much as you." He knocked another teddy bear over but that could go fuck itself. Boone didn't really care what his excuse was, but grabbed his wrist as he got close enough, pulling him to the mattress and taking the beret, placing it on his night-stand. He preferred it there than the coat rack.

Then closing his eyes for hopefully the final time that night, morning or whatever it was, didn't matter, he tried to reach the sleep his body and mind so desperately wanted. But the pressure on the bed was still there, Arcade not moving or making a sound. After a few seconds, he couldn't bite his tongue anymore. "Lie the fuck down." Great, now he sounded like dear old dad.

For as smart as the doctor was, he didn't really read the 'on your own bed' message that was implied. Instead the weight beside him just shifted until he felt breath on the side of his face. He felt the annoyance keep growing until Arcade whispered.

"You're a good man, Craig." Great, so it wasn't actually over.

"Thought you said we were going to bed."

"That was my goodnight message."

He just grunted back, didn't know what to say to that. So he just say lay there, listening to the breaths beside him even out, the groan of the pipes in the walls and he was pretty sure ED-E beeped a few times. Kinda felt a bit bad for it even if it was a bot.

Before he eventually fell into sleep.

-

The dinging of the elevator was what woke Boone, first feeling a spike of pain through his skull, the weight of the head on his shoulder, then seeing the hallway lights turn on through the crack of the door. He rubbed his eyes with his free left hand and let his head fall back fully onto the pillow, willing the Courier to have forgotten that they existed like he sometimes did.

A loud beep made its way through the walls, and the Courier was loudly greeting his bot, telling him all about Red Lucy, the radscorpions, mole rats and even a few things that Boone knew didn't actually happen. He was there after all.

Arcade didn't seem to believe him either, muffling into his neck. "What a liar."

A grunt was his only response. What was he meant to say after having a heart-to-heart with his new friend then waking up to them practically cuddling on the same bed? They both hadn't moved though, which probably meant something he didn't want to think about. Telling himself he was still drunk and tired-limbed from the hours before.

It was probably true since he didn't move in time when he heard the Courier's foot steps barreling down the hallway and shouting if they were there and awake and oh how they wouldn't believe how crazy his night was. The steps suddenly halted as Boone opened his eyes to see the Courier in the doorway looking like a kid who just caught his parents having sex. Thankfully distracted enough to not see the several wine bottles littering the floor.

"That's gross." Is all that escaped his mouth before running back out and shouting for ED-E to go look and see for himself.

"Don't worry, he'll forget in a few hours." Arcade muttered against his skin, lips barely brushing the groove of his shoulder meeting neck. There was probably a science word the doc knew for that, might ask him one time. But right now he didn't care. Still felt the guilt, still didn't want to bring anyone else, nevermind the good-natured doctor, to a state like that. But this felt alright for now. He let himself drift off again, with the sounds of banging, beeping and swearing rattling through the hollow walls, and the feeling of breath on his neck.

Felt alright.


End file.
